The Darker Side of Love
by Misha
Summary: Love can be dark and twisted and not make any sense.


Love's Darker Side   
By Misha 

Disclaimer- Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling and is not mine, however much I might wish differently. However, I am not making any money off of this, so please do not sue me! 

Author's Notes- Why is it that the characters I don't like, are the ones that I find myself writing about the most? I'm not all that fond of Ron, yet, here's **another** fanfic from his point of view. Maybe it's because I feel less guilty putting him through the emotional wringer. Anyway, this one is pretty dark and disturbing. It started out as a straight Draco/Ron fic (yuck), but expanded to include Draco/Harry. I don't know, I guess I can just see Ron as the third point in a very lopsided triangle. However, this wasn't isn't exactly unrequited love, it's strange. You'll have to read to see what I mean. Well, that's all, I hope you like this and please, please send feedback! Please? 

Pairing- Ron/Draco, Draco/Harry, some Ron/Hermione, minor Harry/Hermione. 

Rating- R, I guess. 

Summery- Love can be dark and twisted and not make any sense.   


* * *

Have you ever been with someone when it was so totally wrong, when neither of you even wanted to be together? But where it just sort of happened? 

That was it was like with Draco and I. 

I hated him. 

I had hated him for years. 

And he hated me. 

More than that, we were both in love with someone else. We both wanted someone we could not have. 

I had adored Hermione for years and I realize now that he had been obsessed with Harry since they first met, but neither Harry or Hermione noticed, for they were too busy with one another. 

Maybe that was what brought the two of us together, we both knew the sting of unrequited love. We both knew what it was like to long for someone body and soul, to be desperate for their touch, but to have to watch them be with someone else. 

There were many nights that I laid awake in bed thinking about Hermione, imagining what it would be like to be with her, all the while knowing that imagining it is all that I would ever be able to do, because she did not love me. 

And I am sure that Draco did the same. 

Then, one day, it just happened. Two desperate, lonely people came together. 

Ours was never a love match. It was just sex. 

We both tried to fill a void, but couldn't, not really. 

I would never be what Draco wanted and he would never be the one I loved. 

Or so I thought. 

Imagine my horror when I realized that it had been ages since I had felt that dull ache of longing when ever I looked at Hermione and Harry together. Or the fact that my fantasies were no longer of her, but of my male lover. 

I had to accept the fact that I had fallen in love with the last person that I should have. 

I knew that Draco would not react well to the news. He did not love me and probably never would. He had made it clear from the beginning that what we had was only physical, nothing else. 

Still, I figured that something was better than nothing, so I kept clinging to him, desperately hoping that his feelings would change. 

But they didn't. 

The look in Draco's eyes never softened, there was never any love or even any tenderness there. 

To him it was all physical, there was no emotion involved. 

At least not with me. 

His emotions were all tied up with one person. 

Harry. 

He lived and breathed for him. He always had. What most people had seen as a fierce rivalry had been based on obsession, on desire, and that had branched out into love somewhere along the line. 

And Draco would settle for nothing less than the best. For him, Harry had always been the ultimate prize, the only one worthy of his high-and-mighty Malfoy affections. 

Draco had no problems fulfilling his needs with me, or any other willing participant, until the object of his affection noticed him, but it was nothing personal. It was just sex. 

Still, I was happy, because at least I had some small part of him. Besides, I assumed that Harry was out of his reach, since he and Hermione seemed so happy together. 

Then it happened, Hermione and Harry broke up. They parted as friends, both of them claiming that it had just been puppy love. 

The moment they told me, I felt the dread growing in the pit my stomach. I was afraid of what would happen now that the object of Draco's desire was free. 

I hoped that Draco would realize that he had gotten over Harry, that I was really the one that he wanted. 

But I knew that it would not happen and I was right. 

I still remember that last night. The night my heart shattered into a million pieces. 

I knew what was coming when Draco paused at the door on his way to leave after we were done, Draco never stuck around that long after sex. 

Anyway, there was a slight smile on his face as he cruelly informed me that he wasn't coming back, because he didn't need me any more. He no longer needed to satisfy his needs with the shadow, when he could have the real thing. 

He made it clear that the whole reason he had ever been with me was because I was Harry's best friend and I was close to Harry, but now at last, he had gotten the person that he had always wanted. 

And that was that. I watched with a sick stomach and a broken heart as the man I loved walked out of my life without a backwards glance. 

I had to accept once and for all that he had never given a damn about me. I asked myself how I could love someone who could use me like that, who had had no respect or affection for me. 

But I did. 

It was a like a sickness. The darker, more desperate part of my soul cried out for him. But he did not care. 

I never dared tell Harry about what had happened between me and Draco, I did not want to hurt him. It is weird, I resented him like Hell for being the one that Draco wanted, but at the same time he was still my best friend and I could not bear to bring him pain. 

I knew that Draco would never tell him, he would not want to risk losing him. So, I would bet anything, that Harry still does not know that Draco and I were involved. 

And that is for the best. After all, it was a long time ago, back in our 6th year at Hogwarts. 

We are all adults now, we have been out of school for a decade. 

I have moved on with my life. I married Hermione, believe it or not. I got the girl I always wanted. 

Yet, sometimes, in the dark of night, I still find myself longing for Draco. As much as I hate it, a part of me still loves in him a dark, twisted kind of way. 

I know it is wrong. 

Not only am I married, but I am lusting after my best friend's husband. 

But not really. The Draco I loved and the Draco that is with Harry, are two different people. 

Harry gets the softer side. The tender and devoted lover who would die for him. All the good in Draco is for Harry alone. 

I got the darker side, the side that I doubt Harry has seen much of. 

When I was with Draco there were no tender endearments, no gentle caresses. It was all about need and desire, it was all fast and furious. 

Draco was not gentle with me. His mouth, his hands, his body were all demanding. But I answered with just as much force. I think I actually craved the roughness. I think I got off on it. 

Not to say, I did not long for a bit of what Draco was always saving for Harry, but... I did not know that Draco. 

I wanted to know him, but I didn't. That wasn't what I fell in love with. I fell in love with darker, nastier side of him. 

So maybe I loved him more truly than even Harry does. Because I saw the unpleasant part of him and I loved him anyway. 

Harry loves him because of the good qualities, either ignoring or not knowing about the bad. 

But it does not matter whether my love is more true, because my love has never been the love that Draco craved. He never even considered my love. For him there was only one prize, one person who counted and in the end, he got him. 

That is why I lay in bed some nights, beside my adored wife, and think about the male lover who used me and who I will always be a little bit in love with. 

Well, no one ever said that love was a simple thing. 

In fact, if anything, I know that it is not. 

Love is complicated, but more than that, it is not just hearts and flowers, and storybook endings. Love has a darker side, a brutal, twisted side and it never lets go. 

I should know. 

The End 


End file.
